Chapter 11- Keys to the Past
"Hey! You've reached Tate's place, sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now but if you leave your name, number and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Love Ya. Later. Bye."
Micah Rockwell cursed into his cell phone as the loud beep filled his ear once again. Tate had been gone from work for nearly two weeks, she had told their boss she'd be back in a few days but she hadn't turned up yet. Micah was the only person who knew how to get a hold of her but he couldn't even find her.
"Hey Tate, it's Micah again. This is like the tenth message I've left you today. Where are you kiddo? Alex is having a shit fit; you haven't been in work in two weeks. Where are you? I stopped by your place the other day; you weren't there and a lot of your clothes are gone. Did you go on some trip or something? Kid call me back when and if you get this. I'm this close to placing a missing persons report on you down at the police station. We need to talk; Alex is talking about firing you if you don't show up at the office soon. Please call me back." With a sigh, he closed his cell phone, tossed it onto the passenger's seat of his SUV and flipped on his blinker, turning down the street to his house.
Sam sat across from Tate and watched her stir sugar into her coffee, a smile on her face. She had bothered him the whole cab ride over to the Bayside Campus Cafe, always coming too close to give him too many details about whatever event she had been day dreaming about. She would lean over and whisper things in his ear that would make him shudder and then sit back upright in a fit of giggles; whatever she was thinking about put her in a very good mood, despite what happened earlier. Hearing the bell above the door ring and a couple of shouts hello to the new arrivals, Sam looked up and saw Shauna Monroe and an older woman walk in. Right away Sam's jaw dropped; the woman behind Shauna looked exactly like Tate, just older. Her auburn hair, some of the lighter red high lights had gone gray, fell in a warm brown wave to a little past her shoulder and just a tint darker lavender eyes hid behind square shaped glasses; Tate wore contacts and refused to be seen wearing her glasses. They had the same straight nose, with just a tiny bump in the bridge, same full lips and high cheek bones, same angled face and eye brows that could arch higher than most. But the one thing different about this woman was the claw like jagged scar that ran from behind her left ear, down her neck and onto her shoulder, disappearing under her shirt. With a shaking hand, Sam reached out and tapped Tate on the shoulder.
"Umh, I think Shauna and Professor Summers are here." He mumbled and Tate arched an eye brow.
"Okay, what's wrong Sammy? Did you forget something? What? Get a vision or whatever?"
"No, no, I'm fine."
"Sure, okay. Are you going to ask them those questions we were going over in the cab?"
"You mean going over in between you telling me graphic details of a night in your aunt's pool?"
"Yeah those." She said as Shauna appeared next to her. "Hey Shauna, thanks for meeting with us." She said, slipping back into old routines and patterns.
"Not a problem. Oh, Professor Summers, this is the report I was telling you about, Tatum King. Tate, this is Professor Serena Summers." Shauna made the introductions, but they seemed not to be needed. Tate and Serena were starring at each other, as if they were looking at their reflections. Tate literally saw herself in the reflection that bounced off Serena's glasses and looked back at Sam, her eyes wide with shock.
"Tatum? Tate? My Tate?" Serena rasped as she reached out to touch Tate's face. Tate normally backed away when people touched her, Dean and Sam included, but she didn't move, in fact, she leaned into the touch. Tate looked at the woman who she only remembered from her dreams and felt her throat tighten; her mother was alive and standing right in front of her. She wasn't going to cry, Sam didn't need to see that; hell he'd get her back for all the crap she had put him through in the cab.
"I...I thought...me and dad, that day in the woods. I saw the..." Tate looked over her shoulder at Shauna; she stood there in shock, she didn't need to hear anything about the monster that had destroyed Tate's family. "...that thing take you. I thought you were...dead." She mumbled as she fought to hold tears back. Serena looked over her daughter's shoulder and locked eyes with Sam.
"You're Mary and John's youngest, Sam, aren't you?" She asked taking the appearance that was clearly a mix of her two old friends.
"Yes I am Professor."
"And you're a good friend of Tate's?"
"He's the best." Tate muttered as she turned her back on all of them and quickly swiped away a tear or two.
"Would you mind if I borrowed her for a few minutes?"
"No, go ahead. I'll be here Tate; I have to talk to Shauna." Tate nodded and followed her mother to the back of the cafe, into the small hallway that divided the coffee shop from the bathrooms and pay phones. As soon as they were alone, mother and daughter starred each other down and Tate didn't say a word.
"Look at you, all grown up. The last time I saw you, you were so tiny and only six. Garrett was just as small, how is he?" Tate bit down on her lip and looked down at the ground, wishing for the first time in a long time that Dean was there to help her explain. "Tate?"
"Sere...Mom." The word sounds foreign and takes a while for her to understand how it sounds in her head. She hadn't used that word since she was six and very rarely in the past twenty years even said more than two words about her mother and when she was asked about her parents at work related things it was always the stock answer; "Dad travels a lot on business and mom died when I was young."
"It's okay Tate, take your time."
"Mom, Garrett's dead." She said her face stony and almost casual; unlike Serena's. Her beautiful face fell and Tate felt rotten on the inside, she had gotten used to saying her brother was gone, but Serena didn't even know what had happened.
"What happened?" There was a long answer for that and an even simpler one; one she told friends, co-workers and strangers. One she didn't shared with them and one she only shared with Sam and Dean.
"Car accident." She said, almost with a shrug and nearly fell over when she heard Serena laugh slightly. That rotten feeling quickly changed to the familiar angry one and felt the bile rise in her throat. "It was funny, why are you laughing?" She ground out around almost clenched teeth.
"Your father hunts these monsters, demons, ghosts and whatever else is out in the dark and it was a car accident." Tate's mouth hit the floor, almost mirroring the expression she never saw on Sam's face.
"You knew...know about that?"
"How do you think I got this scar?" Serena asked, showing her the long scar on her left side; to Tate's overly trained eyes, it was a Wendigo's claw. "Your father was on a hunt when it happened, that's why we went on that camping trip. When that monster grabbed me, it took me to its...lair I guess and then left went out hunting again maybe. When it left, I ran; bloody and almost dead, but I ran. Some deer hunter found me, took care of me and brought me to a hospital."
"What happened to him?"
"I married him.
"Dad's not married, well he is, to killing every fucking Wendigo out there. He thinks you're dead, how come you never came looking for us?"
"I did, but when I came back to Boston, you were gone. Our old neighbors said you three had packed up and moved, saying something about Kansas. So I figured you went to see John, make sure he was all right, you weren't there either; the Winchester house was empty. I kept looking, but every time I got so close to finding you, you were gone."
"I don't hunt anymore, well up until two weeks ago I didn't..."
"Wait, your father taught you how to hunt?"
"Sam and Dean do too. That's why I'm here, investigating those dark room deaths." She said and right away, she was all business again. "I want to have time to catch up with you, but I don't have time right now. I have to help the boys find a way to stop these kids from dying. Do you know anything?" Tate asked as Serena smiled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You are just like Ben, and I might know a few things."
Later that night, after Sam and Tate got as much as they could out of Shauna and Serena, and Tate had made plans to spend time with her mother after all of this ghost stuff was over, they headed to the college library and went back to researching. Tate sat in front of a computer, a pen tucked behind her ear and was in journalist mode; copying down every fact she could find about how to deal with a ghost like Tracy. One that used souls to restore herself and then how to get rid of it.
"Don't you think that's a little graphic Tate?"
"Sam she attacked me, it's not graphic its payback. And no, I don't think it's that bad. You and Dean have done worse."
"But what kind of blade do we use?"
"A double edged one lace with silver." She read, right off the computer. "Do we have one of those Sammy?"
"Probably in the trunk. What else do we need?"
"A ring of salt, a Bible written in Latin and some Holy water. Not that bad."
"How do we lure her to us?"
"She feeds off guilt, I'll do it; be bait. I mean, she already got me once, why not do it again?" She asked shrugging.
"I don't like the idea and you sure as hell know Dean won't go for it."
"Do you want other people to die?"
"No but..."
"Then it's settled. Lets get out of here; I've had one hell of a day." Tate said as she stood up, back arching and spine cracking. As they walked out, Sam called another cab and in a matter of moments, they were headed back to their hotel. When the cab pulled into the parking lot, Tate nudged Sam with her elbow and nodded toward the sleek black car parked in front of their room; Dean was back. Sam paid the driver when he pulled up behind the Impala and Tate got out, slowly making her way towards the door. Pushing it open, she found the short sleeved flannel shirt Dean had been wearing earlier laid out across the bed with a note on it. Walking toward it and dropping her purse next to it, she picked it up and read it.
"Sammy, Tate:
If you're reading this and I'm not in the room, then I'm still out by the pool. Got back here and you guys weren't here. I'll talk to you when I see you. Tate, I'm sorry about leaving earlier.
Dean."
"That from Dean?"
"Yeah Sammy, I'll go get him."
"Where is he?"
"Out by the pool." She said with a grin.
"Get away from me. I'm done with all that pool crap."
Laughing, she slipped past Sam like she had done earlier and retraced her steps to the pool. This time it was much quieter and from the looks of it, from her place behind the fence, she and Dean were alone. He was lying stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, his arms behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles. She couldn't tell from where she was if he was awake or not, but she'd find out when she got closer. Bare feet, her flip flops were left back in the room, padded across warm concrete and silently she made her way over to him; she knew she wouldn't be able to sneak up on him, he was a Winchester after all, but she could try. When she got to him, hovering over him, she saw that he was asleep; his eyes shut comfortably and his breathing deep. Kneeling down, much like Sam had done to her earlier; she brushed her hand over his face and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. With a sigh and a shift of his weight, Dean's eyes slowly opened and looked up at her, a slow lazy smile tugging at his lips.
"I didn't think you'd come out here, I thought you'd send Sammy." Tate laughed a little at him and swatted his feet, telling him to scrunch up and let her sit down at the end of the lounger.
"If I wanted to yell at you, do you think I'd send Sam?"
"So you're going to yell?"
"No, I was kidding. I'm not mad at you."
"You should be."
"Well I'm not, so knock it off De." She said as she leaned over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"I thought we weren't going to mix business and pleasure Tate?"
"Business and pleasure has always been mixed with us, De. And besides, I've been thinking today."
"About?"
"How we used to be." Dean laughed and looked at the calm water behind her.
"You were out here and tell me, you were thinking about that time in your aunt's pool?"
"Damn straight I was. One our finest moments Dean."
"That it was Tate that it was." He said; stretching his arms over his head and then leaving them open for her as an invitation. With a smile, she slid over his legs, turned around and settled herself against his chest, her legs sliding in between his. Long strong arms wrapped around her slim waist and fingers laced, resting over her belt. Dean brought his head down and kissed her bare shoulder. "What are we doing Tate?"
"Attempting to go back to the way we were before Garrett's accident."
"So this morning never happened?" Tate laughed a little.
"I didn't say that Dean, it did happen just not the part when I pushed you away." She told him and sealed that with a kiss. It wasn't really anything special, heated or romantic, just a kiss. When they pulled apart, Tate left a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose and smiled. "I have some shit to tell you!" She giggled.
"About the ghost? What did you and Sammy find out?"
"No! Not that, it's about me."
"Just like always." That comment received a twist of the skin on his wrist as payback. "All right! All right! I take it back, stop pinching! So what happened?" And just like that, Tate broke into the story about her mother and how they had plans for lunch. Somewhere, something inside of the both of them fell back to normal, like it had been when they were kids and they both figured maybe they'd be okay this time.